A Pox on Your Cirronian
by The Blue Raven
Summary: Cole comes down with a decidedly Cirronian strain of chickenpox and it falls to an under the weather Mel to take care of the housebound Tracker, intensifying their growing sense of closeness. Sequel of sorts to ‘This Mortal Coil’
1. Chapter 1

**A Pox on Your Cirronian**

Summary: Cole comes down with a decidedly Cirronian strain of chickenpox and it falls to an under the weather Mel to take care of the housebound Tracker, intensifying their growing sense of closeness. Sequel of sorts to 'This Mortal Coil'

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Still waiting on that deal with Zin...

Spoilers: Minor for the Pilot ep. Very minor for "Roswell". 

Timeline: Post "To Catch a Dessarian", pre "Love, Cirronian Style". About 2 months after my fic "This Mortal Coil" (in which Mel contracts a life-threatening case of meningitis and a lot of people have to come to terms with a lot of things). As she would be in real life, Mel is still experiencing the frustrating aftereffects of her condition.

Feedback: Always welcome and much appreciated, even the negative variety. Good, bad, or downright ugly, I don't know what I'm doing right and wrong without feedback.

**Chapter 1**

"I'll get that, Mel," Cole told her gently, relieving her of the box she was carrying into the back room. He did not like how ashen and waxy her complexion was, or how weak her life-force felt, even at such close distance. She had worn herself out again. "You should sit."

Mel started to protest, but stopped when she look up into his eyes. Sighing and nodding weakly, she gave way to his obvious concern and her own fatigue. As Cole disappeared into the back, she shook her head and walked to one of the couches along the far wall, dropping onto it with another sigh.

"It'll get easier, Mel," a quiet voice contributed. Jess mixed up a small martini and carried it over to Mel, sitting down next to her. "It _will_," she promised, handing her the drink.

"When?" Mel asked, biting back tears of frustration. "Damn it, Jess, it's been two months and I am still… I'm as weak as a damned kitten here!" she whispered.

"You're having a bad day. It's to be expected, Mel." Jess sighed and wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulder. "Come on, Mel. You _know_ that you're having more good days than bad lately. You're getting _better_."

"Doesn't feel like that right now…" Mel sighed in frustration, no longer able to fight her tears.

"Oh, I know, luv," Jess murmured, gathering Mel into her arms for an obviously much-needed hug. "I know, I know…" she whispered, rocking her. "It's okay. You're going to be okay."

Mel closed her eyes, only peripherally aware when another pair of arms closed around her as Cole added his support and comfort to Jess'. 

"Why don't you put her to bed, Cole?" Jess suggested gently.

Mel shook her head, making a frustrated noise, almost a shout. "No, damn it! I have so much _work_…"

"Hush, Mel," Cole murmured soothingly. "We'll talk about it upstairs, okay?" he offered. 

He knew that Mel would take the offer, even knowing that the discussion would end exactly as Cole wanted it to, simply so that she would not have to argue and cry in front of Jess. He looked at Jess over Mel's head and the Englishwoman nodded faintly, rising and walking behind the bar, pretending not to notice the crying woman. Mel nodded weakly and let him tug her to her feet and steer her up the stairs and straight to her bedroom without protest. 

"_I hate this!_" she snapped, dropping onto her bed. Growling, she slammed her fist into a pillow. "I hate being so damned _weak_, Cole!"

"I know you do, Mel," he whispered, sitting down next to her and gathering her into his arms.

She sighed and leaned into him, burying her face in his chest. "I just want to be better, Cole," she murmured. Sighing, she looked up at him. "When will I be better?" she whispered hopelessly, her eyes brimming with tears again.

"Soon," he promised, sighing himself. He hated being so helpless to comfort her, to make everything better. "Soon, Mel." He gave her a reassuring smile. "It's true that you have bad days, but you still keep getting better, stronger every day. You will be well soon."

She nodded weakly and buried her face in his chest again. "I'd have probably run myself into the ground by now if it hadn't been for you, Cole," she murmured, pressing her ear to his heart and wrapping her arms around his waist, lulled by the rapid, steady beat. "I can't tell you how grateful I am…"

"There is nothing for you to be grateful for, Mel. Friends take care of each other. You have always taken such good care of me, and now it is my turn to take care of you for a little while." He smiled down at her. "It won't be forever and I honestly don't mind, Mel. I like being able to help you."

"What would I do without you?" she asked, smiling up at him. As frustrating as her recovery had been, Cole's quiet presence was always a source of comfort, always made things easier, even before the physical things he did to help her were factored in.

Cole closed his eyes at her words, wondering the same, what he would do without her. She was still so weak, yet she still pushed herself so hard in her struggle to be well again. She did not seem to understand that she was only slowing the process down.

"Get some rest, Mel," he suggested tenderly, rising and retrieving a pair of her pajamas. "I'll be in the bar helping Jess. I want you to call down if you need anything."

"Thanks." She accepted the pajamas from his hands, letting her fingers brush over his as she did. "I appreciate it."

He smiled shyly. "Sleep well, Mel. Should I put you to sleep?"

Mel bowed her head. "Yes, please." 

She had been having trouble sleeping again, like she had those first few nights in the hospital after Cole had stopped staying with her. Only the fact that she did not want him worrying had kept her from going to him last night. Her night had been a restless one, what little of her sleep she had managed to get fitful and troubled by nightmares. The result was her current weakened and fatigued state.

"I'll wait outside," he murmured, brushing her hair out of her face and giving her another gentle smile.

Mel watched him go with a smile, weak but genuine. She loved him for the way he took care of her, watched over her, did everything he could to ease her recovery, and acted as if it was less than nothing. She _knew_ that he was pushing himself to do everything that needed to be done, in the bar, taking care of her, tracking his fugitives. His fatigue and strain were obvious, especially in the last day or two, but he never uttered a word of complaint and refused to let others take any of his self-appointed duties on themselves.

She changed quickly and then opened the bedroom door again. Cole was waiting patiently for her in the hallway and smiled when he saw her. His smile widening, he held up a glass of warm milk. 

"This will help, too, Mel," he promised, pressing it into her hands.

"How do you do that so quickly?" Mel asked, smiling faintly. Cole could come up with a glass of warm milk at a moment's notice, something he had proved frequently, especially since her return from the hospital. "You hiding a cow in the war-room?"

Cole smiled faintly, shaking his head. "No, Mel. It just heats faster when I use my energy instead of the stove."

"Ah." Mel nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a long sip. He had put a half spoonful of sugar into it, exactly as her grandmother always had. She smiled over at Cole as he sat down next to her, patiently waiting for her to finish the milk. "I appreciate it, Cole."

"It's only milk, Mel."

"I appreciate it _all_, Cole," she clarified, smiling faintly. "You've been so good to me. And _don't_ try to brush it off. It means a lot to me. I want you to know that."

He smiled faintly and nodded. "I know, Mel. I understand." He smiled and brushed her hair out of her face as she finished her milk, then relieved her of the glass and tucked her into bed. "Would you like to listen to some music while you rest, Mel?"

She nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes, please, Cole."

"Is your neck hurting, Mel?" he asked, concerned.

"No, Cole," she reassured him, knowing that he had a habit of worrying about her having a relapse every time her neck or head hurt. "Just a little tense. There's no pain."

"I'll rub it anyway," he told her, turning on her favorite CD and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Roll onto your stomach."

The Cirronian could not help but smile at Mel's quiet moan of approval as he started working at the knots her muscles had tied themselves into, releasing soothing, relaxing energy as he went. She had been under a lot of stress lately, emotionally as well as physically. He did what he could to ease the burden on her, but it was not always enough. Sometimes all he could do was deal with the aftereffects: tense muscles, sleepless nights, crying jags… All made his heart ache, knowing what she must be suffering through and powerless to do anything to ease it.

Mel was asleep long before he had finished massaging out the last of the knots in her neck and shoulders, but he kept working until all were gone, wanting her to wake up relaxed and comfortable. He continued massaging even then, simply enjoying the opportunity to touch his Mel freely, until a low voice returned him to the present.

"I can think of worse ways to fall asleep," Jess said gently from the door. "Can't imagine _why_ she fights the idea of taking naps so much if _that_ is how you put her down." 

Cole smiled faintly at the young woman, rising and joining her in the hall, closing Mel's door behind him. "She was very tense. It happens when she grows frustrated."

"Yeah, I know. She can get pretty tightly wound." Jess ignored the urge to tell Cole that she sometimes got frustrated and tense as well, knowing better. Cole Hauser was a one-woman man if ever there had been one. 

Besides which, a tacit understand had existed between them since the night Mel had been admitted to the hospital. Once Cole had opened up to her about his past, Jess had not needed to ask to know that she reminded Cole of his murdered daughter. It had been there, unspoken but obvious, in the care he had taken of her while Mel was sick, his gentle comfort and quiet support. He had been offering her that same comfort and support ever since, as a matter of fact, as she came to term with the hard truths of her own past. 

"She'll feel better once she wakes up," Cole assured Jess, steering her down the hall and away from the bedroom. "She didn't sleep very well last night, I think."

"Nah, I don't think so," Jess agreed. "She looked a bit worn around the edges." The young woman paused, frowning up at Cole. "So do you, for that matter. You feeling okay?"

Cole gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Jess. Only a little tired between work and working in the bar and taking care of Mel…"

"And taking care of _me_," she added quietly.

"That's the easy one in that group, Jess," he assured her gently, patting her shoulder. "You only sometimes need someone to listen. I don't mind this; I welcome it. It helps you so much..."

"Do you _ever_ stop taking care of others long enough to take care of yourself?" she asked quietly.

He smiled warmly down at her, gently cupping her face in his hands. "You and Mel are my _family_ now, Jess. _Of course_ I take care of you. Without his family, a man has nothing."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to her, you know that?" Jess asked, shaking her head. "I mean you aren't even involved and you take better care of her than most husbands would…"

Cole smiled and shook his own head. "She is the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time as well, Jess."

"She going to be okay?" Jess asked quietly, glancing towards Mel's room.

"She'll be fine, Jess. She grows stronger each day. Soon she'll be as she was before she got sick."

Jess smiled and nodded, trusting that Cole knew. In spite of his manner, he was an unusually perceptive man. There were times when he did just _know_ thing: the way he had been hovering over Mel all day before she got sick, the way he had known just the other day that Jonas' granddaughter was coming down sick, the way he always knew when one of the girls in the bar was going to call in sick over the next day or two. And if he could sense when someone was getting sick, Jess saw no reason why he should not also be able to tell that someone was getting well. 

"Let's go downstairs," he suggested gently.

"Okay." Jess nodded and followed him from the apartment.

"If you set the bar up, I'll finish taking inventory and moving the shipment into the back room," Cole offered as they emerged into the bar.

"Sounds good." Jess moved behind the bar to begin setting up. "Just yell if you need help, Cole."

"Okay, Jess," Cole agreed, picking up a case of bourbon. "Could you start a pot of coffee, please?" he called over his shoulder as he carried it into the back. 

He was tired, worn out. A few cups of coffee would give him a chance to get some much-needed sugar into his system. Sighing, he shifted the box onto its shelf, wiping sweat off of his forehead and taking a moment to catch his breath before returning to the barroom.

***

"Here you go, Jonas," Cole said, handing him his drink. "How is Rebecca?"

"Ah, thanks, Cole. She's doing a lot better," Jonas told him, picking up his glass. "Getting very impatient with having to stay in the house all day. Lots of pent-up energy, sure sign she's on the mend."

"I'm glad, Jonas. I was worried about her. She's a sweet little girl."

"Takes after her mother." Jonas grinned and raised his glass. "Here's to the little charmer."

"Health and long life," Cole murmured, echoing the words of a Cirronian toast. "I'm glad she's doing better, Jonas," he said, smiling.

"Speaking of lovely young ladies who are doing better, how's Mel?"

Cole's smile grew. "She's much better, Jonas. Stronger, not as tired."

"What about you, son? You holding up okay?" Jonas regarded him with frank concern. "You don't look so good, Cole."

"I'm fine, Jonas. Just tired. I've been doing many things at once."

"Hmm…" Jonas looked skeptical, glancing from Cole to Mel behind the bar. "You look worse than she does, tonight."

Cole spared a glance at Mel before answering. "Mel looks much better tonight," he allowed. "She had a long nap this afternoon." 

"Hmm," he repeated. "Cole, _are_ you okay?" 

"I'm fine, Jonas." Cole smiled reassuringly down at the older lawyer. "Excuse me. There are other customers."

Jonas watched Cole go with a frown, catching Mel's arm the next time she walked by. "He okay, Mel?" 

"Uh… think so."

It was not lost on Jonas that Mel did not have to stop to think about who 'he' referred to. Or that she _did_ have to stop and think about an answer to his question.

"He looks run down, Mel."

"I know," she answered quietly, her brow creasing. "He's been really pushing himself lately. You know, taking care of me…"

"I know, sweetie." Jonas nodded slightly. "Keep an eye on him, hmm?"

"I have been." Mel nodded faintly. "He pushes himself _so_ hard…"

"He worries about you. It might be the best thing for both of you to take a few days off of work." He held up his hand as she opened her mouth. "And before you say no, Mel, just think about it. Cole's not the only one overdoing and you know it. Rest. Make _him_ rest. The girls can handle things for a few days."

"Yeah, you could have something there."

"That's a good girl. Tomorrow's Sunday. You can take off until Friday if you want."

"Mmm, that's a little much to ask," Mel said, shaking her head and smiling at him. 

Jonas smiled and shook his head. "Workaholic." 

"That's me," Mel agreed, looking up as another customer tried to attract her attention. "Right back, Jonas." 

"Workaholics the pair of them," he muttered as she hurried off, shaking his head. Irene would have skinned him alive if he failed to force Mel to make good on her promise to take it easy. He would just have to start a little conspiracy. It was time to spread the word. "Hey, Jess, talk to you for a minute?" he called once he was sure that Mel's attention was firmly elsewhere.

***

"Oh, God, what a night," Mel yawned, stretching.

Cole looked up from locking the front door and nodded. "It was very busy, Mel," he agreed. "You didn't overexert yourself?"

"No." She shook her head and walked over to him. "What about you?"

"I'm fine, Mel," he told her, shaking his head faintly. "Let's get you to bed."

"Okay," Mel agreed, too tired to press the point. "I want you to get some rest tonight, too, Cole," she told him as he walked her up the stairs and to her room.

"I will, Mel," he assured her. "You're the fifth person to make me promise that today." In addition to Mel, Jess, and Jonas, two of the other barmaids had exacted the same promise from him.

"Yeah, well you look like you could use it." Mel turned to face him, reaching up and touching his cheek, frowning at how clammy his normally-heated skin felt. "Get some rest, Cole. Please."

"I will, Mel," he promised, smiling down at her. "Do you need help getting into the tub tonight?"

"I think I'm going to go straight to bed tonight, Cole," Mel told him. "I'm pretty worn out myself."

"Okay, Mel." Cole nodded faintly and touched her forehead. "Will you be able to sleep?"

"Think so, yeah."

"Okay, Mel. I'll be in the living room if you need help." He smiled gently down at her, giving her throat a final caress before turning and leaving her.

Sighing, Mel slid into her bedroom and dropped onto the bed, not bothering to retrieve a nightgown from the dresser. She was too tired to do more than pull off her clothes and crawl under the covers. Jonas and Jess had been right. She needed to take a few days off, rest. Her growing strength had made her overconfident and she had pushed herself too hard as a result. Now she was paying the price in fatigue and irritability. And Cole himself was too tired to carry her any farther. So they would both just rest for a few days. It would be good for them both, taking a few days without worrying about the bar or the fugitives, just relaxing.

Sleep came quickly to the exhausted woman and, when it did, it was mercifully dreamless.

***

She woke with a start, looking around the dark bedroom in confusion, looking around and trying to figure out what was wrong to have pulled her out of a sound sleep. The room was still, though, empty except for herself, and there was not a sound to be heard from the apartment or the street below. Other than a slight headache, she could not find anything amiss. Yawning, she looked at her alarm clock and saw that it was almost four in the morning. Shaking her head, she rose to search the apartment for the source of whatever had disturbed her.

She stopped short in the living room, startled to see Cole sitting on the couch, curled up under a heavy comforter.

"Cole, are you okay?" she whispered in the darkness. "God, Cole, you're shivering."

"I'm cold, Mel," he answered simply, his teeth chattering as he spoke.

"Well, let's get the heat up," she suggested, turning up the thermostat and moving to sit next to him. "You okay?"

His nod was shaky and lacked conviction.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked gently, lightly touching his shoulder. When he hesitated, she tried again. "Cole, you can tell me. It's okay," she promised.

"I think I'm sick, Mel."

"Sick?" she repeated. It at least explained why he had looked so worn all day. "Oh, you poor baby. Is it bad?"

He shook his head quickly at her anxious tone. "No, Mel. I'm just very cold and tired. I don't think it's serious. I'm fine."

"You've been overdoing it, too, Cole. That can't be helping either."

"No, Mel, I guess not," he agreed quietly. Before she could suggest what he would have suggested to her under the circumstances, he quickly added, "But it's not serious and _someone_ needs to help in the bar and take care of you, Mel."

"I know." Mel sighed and nodded. "You've taken such good care of me up until now, Cole, but… now it's time for you to take care of yourself for a bit. Neither of us is going to work in the bar on Monday or Tuesday, and you aren't to Track unless it's absolutely necessary. You're going to rest for a few days, get this out of your system."

"Who will take care of you?" he protested.

"We will take care of _each other_," she promised, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm a lot stronger and there's no reason why I can't do some of the things that you've been taking on yourself. We'll split the workload and each take it as easy as possible, focus on getting ourselves well. We'll be fine," she said with more assurance than she felt, nodding firmly for his benefit. "We'll be fine."

"Yes, Mel," Cole agreed as she rearranged the blanket around him. "We'll take good care of each other and everything will be fine."

"You bet it will. Let me get you another blanket." 

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You should get some sleep, Mel," Cole suggested gently as she handed him a cup of tea. "You are not well yet either and need to rest."

"I had a long nap today. I'll be _fine_," she assured him, sitting down next to him and fussing over his blankets for a few minutes. "Besides, I wouldn't feel right leaving you out here all alone…"

"Mel, you must rest," he protested softly.

"Cole," she sighed, shaking her head. "I can't leave you all alone when you're sick."

"You must rest," he repeated, gently but firmly.

"I can rest out here and still keep an eye on you."

He nodded slowly, lifting up the blankets. Smiling, Mel sidled under the blankets next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Get some rest, Cole," she suggested quietly as he slid his arms around her.

"I will, Mel. Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah, Cole. I'm great," she answered honestly. She missed the heat that traditionally poured off of his body, but the strong arms around her felt as wonderful as they always felt. "You comfortable, Cole?"

"Yes, Mel. I like holding you like this. It makes me feel the same way as taking care of you."

"Really? And how's that?"

"Like I'm married again."

"Oh," she whispered, her eyes widening slightly. Panic began to pervade her awareness at the realization that the emotional intimacy she felt with him was a shared one, which could lead to very real complications given how closely they had been forced to cooperate lately.

"Get some rest, Mel," he directed gently, frowning faintly at her slight loss of composure.

"Right," she agreed, nodding. "You, too."

"Okay, Mel," he agreed, easily. "Sleep well."

"Okay. Get some rest."

"I will, Mel," he promised with a yawn.

"Don't think I've ever heard you do that before," she noted with a yawn of her own. She wanted to stay up with him for a little longer, but sitting like this, curled up in his arms, with his arms around hers as well, was just too relaxing. She was already falling asleep. "Night, Cole."

"Night, Mel. Sleep well. Have sweet dreams."

"Don't see how I could fail to, Cole," she confessed in a mumble as she drifted off.

***

Mel experienced a moment's disorientation as she woke up, trying to figure out why she was half-sitting up and in someone's arms. She kept her eyes closed, thinking. Right, Cole…

"Morning, Cole," she greeted him lazily. She opened her eyes when there was no response but a soft snore. "Cole?" she asked, frowning up at him. "Hey, Cole?"

He came awake slowly, yawning and looking around in obvious disorientation.

"Cole, are you okay?" she asked, worried.

"Mmm." He nodded groggily, yawning again. "Sorry, Mel. Just not used to… waking up."

"I guess not. I thought you didn't sleep?" Aware that she was still in his arms, she straightened slowly, reluctant to leave his embrace but not entirely comfortable in it either.

"Not often, Mel. Usually meditation alone is adequate, but illness can weaken my body substantially. Then I sometimes require actual sleep."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

"I'm tired, Mel, and weak, but okay, I think."

"Good." She smiled and nodded. "Why don't you take a nap later?"

"Okay, Mel," he agreed, reaching up to stroke her throat. He stopped dead, frowning.

"Cole? What's wrong?" she asked, reaching up and touching his cheek. Alarmingly, it had gone from clammy to cold. "Are you okay?" she demanded.

"Don't think so, Mel." He shook his head slowly, turning his hand over for her inspection.

"Oh, my God," she whispered, staring at the cluster of three tiny spots on the back of his hand. Three tiny, **_glowing_** spots. "_What the hell_?"

"I don't know, Mel. Nothing like this has ever happened in this body before."

"Oh, my God," she repeated, wide eyes growing wider as comprehension began to dawn. It could not be. Could it? "Do they itch?" At his nod, she let out a short bark of anxious laughter. "Chickenpox, Cole. You have the chickenpox!"

"The illness Rebecca has?" he asked, frowning.

"I think so." She nodded. "No, it couldn't be," she reversed herself immediately. "It's been like three days since you were exposed. Normally it takes seven or more days to get sick."

"For the infection to incubate?"

"Right." 

"Infections incubate far more quickly in Cirronians, Mel," he told her, frowning down at his hand. "We have very strong immune systems. Viruses and other pathogens don't make it past our defenses often, but when they do, we begin manifesting symptoms very quickly because of our accelerated metabolisms."

"Then I guess it _could_ be that. Though I can't say I've ever seen chickenpox _glow_ before…"

"Maybe it has to do with my Cirronian physiology?" he ventured hesitantly.

"Guess it could. Here, let me see," she directed, taking his hand in hers and lightly running her fingers over the spots. "I… don't know, Cole. These are bumps, but they're not... oozing, I guess. Normally with chickenpox a child gets these little sores and there's a discharge…"

"Lesions would heal themselves quickly on a Cirronian, Mel, the way injuries do."

She frowned, taking a moment to consider his words. "So you think you're skipping straight to the scar phase?"

"Maybe, Mel, but… they glow."

"I'd noticed! God, I hope this isn't permanent," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Scars also fade quickly on me, Mel," he assured her. "But I still don't know why these would _glow_…"

"For the same reason that your temperature goes down instead of up when you get sick, I guess." She shrugged. "Who _knows_ how a human germ is going to affect a Cirronian?" 

"Not well, obviously." He frowned down at his hand, scratching it.

"You can't scratch them," Mel told him, grabbing his hand. "It's bad for you, my grandmother told me so when I had chickenpox."

"But they _itch_!"

"Of course they itch, Cole. They're chickenpox. Or Cirronian-pox or something." She rolled her eyes, rising. Why would they itch if they were _scars_, she wondered. Maybe they were closer to scabs. Not that it much mattered in the present circumstances. "Come on, Cole. I have some calamine lotion in the bathroom."

"Calamine lotion, Mel?" he repeated.

"It helps with itchiness," she explained as he followed her into the bathroom. She quickly located the small pink bottle, left over from last summer's brush with poison ivy, and a bag of cotton balls. "Here, give me your hand."

Cole obediently extended his hand, watching curiously as Mel poured a little of the thick, pink liquid onto the cotton swab. She gently took his hand in one of her own, earning a warm smile from him, but he hissed in protest at the first touch of the lotion.

"Cold, Mel!" he protested, pulling his hand away.

"I know. And I know that Cirronians hate the cold. But it _will_ help the itching." She waited for him to nod and offer up his hand again, then quickly dabbed a generous helping of the lotion on the glowing spots. "There. All done. Better?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes, Mel. They don't itch so badly any more," he said, looking down at his hand. "And you can no longer tell that they glow."

Mel glanced down at his hand. Sure enough, with the pink fluid hardening over the spots, she could no longer detect the faint glow, especially in the well-lit bathroom.

"Well, that's something at least." She nodded and steered him back into the living room, sitting him down and covering him again. "I'm going to go to the store, Cole," she told him.

"But Mel, you must _rest_," he protested.

"I know, Cole, but there are things we need, starting with more calamine lotion. There's hardly any left. And we're out of ice-cream, and I don't think we have any chicken or tomato soup."

"We hardly ever eat soup, though, Mel."

"Soup is... it's sick people food, Cole. Your stomach may not be up to taking much more. Besides, I think we need more teabags, too, and I'm out of aspirin again..."

He nodded slowly. "Okay, Mel. Let me get changed and I'll come with you."

Cole had been following Mel on every shopping trip she had taken since she had gotten back from the hospital, worried that she might be too weak to finish the trip and drive home, or that she might have a dizzy-spell behind the wheel or in the store. Sensing that it made her uncomfortable, he was slightly less physically demonstrative in public than he had been with her in private since her illness, not touching her nearly as much as he did when they were alone together, but he was no less attentive to her needs and no less overt in his concern over her well-being.

She had been on the receiving end of more than one envious look over the gorgeous man following her around like an adoring puppy, fetching and carrying in the grocery store or the mall. He carried all of her bags, got things down from the high shelves, inquired after her state of health, and generally behaved more like an attentive husband than a close friend. Not that Mel was complaining. It was a hard thing _to_ complain about. Nallia had been a lucky woman.

"Maybe you should rest, Cole?" she suggested gently.

"You should not go alone, Mel," Cole told her firmly, his expression full of tender concern. "You still are very weak and still sometimes become dizzy. Someone should be with you. It won't be for long and I am less weak now that I have slept. I can come."

Mel hesitated, knowing that Cole would probably not take no for an answer, no matter how sick he was. Especially not after that damned fainting spell last week. It would be ten minutes in the grocery store, tops, and she did not think that it would do too much harm to him. He was normally so healthy, after all. And since the calamine lotion effectively covered the glowing spots on his hand, there was no harm in him being seen in public.

"Yeah, guess it can't hurt anything," she decided. "It'll just be a short trip."

*** 

Twenty minutes later, glancing from the label of a soup-can to Cole to ask him which kind he preferred, Mel was regretting her words. Her eyes widening, an expletive that she would never have uttered aloud found its way into her consciousness and repeated itself no fewer than ten times as she stared at the Cirronian. He had several glowing spots on his neck, peeking out from under his collar. Even in the store's bright fluorescent track-lighting, they were fairly conspicuous.

"Cole," she whispered, making a beckoning gesturing with one finger and reaching into her purse.

"What's wrong, Mel?" he asked, frowning at the look on her face.

"Spots," she murmured, finding the foundation in her purse and opening the bottle. The expletive continued to repeat itself in her mind. "Come here. We can _not_ let you be seen like this."

"What is that?" he asked as she poured a few drops of flesh-toned liquid onto her fingertip and began dabbing it against his neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"Foundation," she murmured, dabbing more on. "It covers… blemishes. I don't think this is _exactly_ what the people at Revlon had in mind, but it looks like it's working. We just need to get through the checkout and we'll be fine."

He nodded, opening his eyes as she put the bottle away. "Then we can go home where it's warm?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah, Cole. Then we can go home where it's warm." She dropped several cans of soup into the cart, took a quick inventory of its contents, and nodded to herself. "Yeah, let's check out."

Cole nodded and obediently followed Mel to the checkout, resisting the urge to scratch his arm. He tried to concentrate on moving the groceries out of the basket instead. Having accomplished that, he turned his attention to the shelf of candy near the register.

"May I have a candy bar, Mel?" he asked hopefully. "Please?"

Chuckling and nodding, Mel grabbed several of each of his favorites, dumping them with the other groceries. The cashier's eyes widened faintly at the twenty-plus candy bars abruptly added to the contents of the conveyor-belt, but she did not comment as she rang them up. Until Mel shrugged and grabbed another double-handful.

This time, the cashier _had_ to comment. "That's a lot of chocolate…"

"He's a little bit of a carbohydrate addict," Mel said with a shrug.

Leafing through a copy of US News, Cole seemed oblivious to them both. Mel was sure when he reached to put it back on the rack that he had probably already finished it. Smiling and shaking her head, she plucked it from his hand and added it to the groceries. The amount of time he had spent on it indicated some interesting articles. Cole continued looking absently around the checkout counter, zeroing in on a magazine in the row of tabloids and immediately picking it up.

Mel frowned faintly. She had not known that Cole liked tabloids. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in _which_ tabloid Cole had grabbed. The Weekly World News. She chuckled and shook her head as she saw the headline that had most likely caught the Cirronian's eye: _Alien Man Living With Human Woman: a Match Made in the Heavens._

"Put it down, Cole," she suggested, still laughing.

"But, Mel," he began in a voice of deep concern. 

"It's not true, Cole," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"But it's a newspaper!" he protested, staring down at it.

"It's a _tabloid_, Cole. Even the best of those tend to be… questionable. And that one is definitely up there. It's…"

"Not true?"

She smiled gently and shook her head. "Remember that science fiction book you read a few weeks ago? It's kind of like that."

"Oh." He nodded and immediately returned the magazine to the rack, his expression disinterested.

Mel smiled and returned her attention to the cashier who was just ringing up the last few items. She kept her face fixed in a polite smile that still managed to discourage questions as she swiped her credit card through the machine and signed her receipt. When she had finished, Cole had already transferred the bagged groceries back into the cart.

"Come on, Mel," he directed gently. "We should go now. You look tired. You must rest."

Mel smiled and nodded, falling into step next to him as he pushed the cart out to the car. It was not lost on her that she received more than one envious look on the way there.

***

"Do they still itch?" Mel asked as they unpacked their groceries.

"Yes, Mel." Cole nodded faintly, frowning. "A lot."

"Okay. Why don't you go take a shower, see if that helps at all, then we'll get some more calamine lotion on you if you need it. I got oatmeal, too."

"I like Oatmeal, Mel." He smiled brightly. "Especially with maple syrup. But… I thought we still had oatmeal?"

"We do. This is different. We'll pour it in your bathwater tonight to help with the itching."

"Oh. Yes, Mel."

Smiling at his confused expression, she suggested, "Why don't you go take that shower now?"

Cole nodded and obediently walked to the bathroom. Mel finished unpacking the groceries and then sank gratefully onto the couch with her copy of US News. When she heard the shower stop, she grabbed a bottle of calamine lotion, one of several that she had gotten, and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

"Hey, Cole!" she called through the door. "Still itchy?"

"Very itchy, Mel. In many more places…"

"Well, I've got the calamine lotion here. Why don't you wrap a towel around yourself and I'll put it on for you."

"Thank you, Mel." He opened the door, wrapped in a towel.

And peppered with hundreds of glowing spots.

"Oh, God," Mel whispered, shaking her head and regarding his pox-covered left arm and shoulder, chest, and neck. "Here, turn around," she ordered, wishing she had not when he did so, revealing more spots on his back than there had been on his chest. "Oh, God," she repeated, walking into the bathroom and finding the cotton-swabs again. "How the hell is it spreading so fast?" she demanded, starting with the spots on the small of his back and working her way up. "This should _not_ be happening so fast…"

"Cirronian metabolism allows viruses to replicate rapidly, Mel," he reminded her. "Just as one starts showing symptoms sooner, those symptoms progress more aggressively. It is why viruses are so dangerous to us but, as a benefit, we are seldom sick for as long as a member of another species would be. How much farther will this spread?"

Mel shook her head. "At this rate, it'll probably have covered your entire body by suppertime."

"You're kidding?" he whispered, staring over his shoulder at her. "But, Mel, this is so unpleasant!"

"I know, Cole. And I'm sorry. The lotion should be helping, and there's the oatmeal bath to try. I guess I can call a pharmacist and see what else he recommends."

"The lotion helps a little, Mel," he admitted. "But it takes so long to put on…"

"Yeah, it really does, doesn't it?" Mel frowned down at the little cotton-swab in her hand, up at Cole's massive bulk, then shrugged and tossed the swab into the trashcan. She poured half the bottle into one cupped hand. "Let's try this," she said. "Little cold," she added, smearing the lotion on his back.

Cole gasped quietly at the feel of the cold liquid, but he could not complain about the way Mel's hands felt smearing it on. In fact, _that_ felt absolutely wonderful. He closed his eyes and relaxed under her care, savoring the sensations Mel was creating. Suddenly, even the chills tearing through his frame were a pleasant sensation, transformed by this electric contact. 

Mel smiled as she felt his muscles relaxing. "That better?" she asked gently.

"Feels good, Mel," he agreed quietly.

At those words, Mel found herself having a déjà vu moment to the time she had taught him to bathe. Especially when she moved around in front of him to slather the lotion over his chest as well.

"Uh, yeah… well, uh… we'll just get this finished and then you can… get dressed and… ice-cream! We'll get you a bowl of ice-cream!" she babbled, finishing quickly and stepping to the sink to wash her hands. She stared down at her hands rather than look up and risk seeing Cole in the mirror. Feeling Cole moving to stand behind her, she closed her eyes as well. "You can get dressed just as soon as that dries," she assured him quietly. "I'll go get that ice-cream scooped up."

"Okay, Mel." He nodded faintly, frowning after her as she fled. His chest and back missed the feel of her hands, and his heart missed her presence. Sighing deeply, he bent to retrieve his clothes. 

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Here, Cole," Mel said, handing him a little plastic cup of Nyquil. It had been a long and unpleasant day for the Tracker and, stoic though he had tried to be, the pain in his head had finally become unbearable. "This should make you feel better. Careful when you drink it. It's… strong."

Cole nodded and sipped at the green fluid, grimacing. "Mel, that tastes like… _terlwak_," he announced, frowning and swallowing the rest down as quickly as possible.

"I know it does, Cole," Mel said, nodding. "But it'll help with the muscle aches."

He nodded, faintly, handing back the cup and staring up at her curiously. "How do you know what terlwak tastes like, Mel?"

"Uh, I assumed it was a figure of speech for tasting like… well, _nasty_," she temporized.

"Oh." Cole nodded. "Well, terlwak does take nasty," he agreed absently.

Mel sat down next to him, watching him anxiously. "How do you feel?"

"I ache and my head hurts. And I itch," he added, sighing.

"Poor baby," Mel said softly. "Tired?"

"Yes, Mel." He nodded faintly.

"Why don't you go lie down in my room for a few hours?" she suggested. "I can wake you around dinner time."

"What will you do, Mel?"

"I'll just curl up on the couch and read a book," she told him, rising and extending her hand. "Come on, Cole."

"Okay, Mel," he agreed, accepting her hand and rising. "Thank you for letting me borrow your bed."

"You look like you could use it," Mel told him, opening the door to her bedroom. "There are more blankets in the closet if you need them. Can I bring you a cup of tea or anything?"

"Yes please, Mel." He smiled down at her. "Thank you."

She smiled and nodded. "I'll go get your tea if you want to lay down."

While Mel was gone, Cole quickly pulled off his pants and shirt, both of which were horribly uncomfortable against his itchy skin, and slid under the covers as another bout of chills hit him. Shivering, he lay huddled under the blankets, waiting for Mel.

"Cold?" she asked sympathetically, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing him his tea. As he sipped it, she rose and folded his clothes, laying them on the dresser. "Let me see if I can find a couple of heating pads," she said. "Oh, better still, I think I have an electric blanket around here somewhere. Stay put."

Cole obediently waited as Mel hurried off, returning a few minutes later with a blanket in hand. 

"Found it," she announced, holding it up. "Here, let's just plug it in and…" She paused as she bent to plug the blanket in. "There we go. Now just pull down the covers and we'll put this right next to your skin. They don't normally recommend that for humans, but I doubt it could hurt you."

"I don't think so, Mel," Cole agreed, pushing down the blankets and letting Mel drape the electric blanket over him. He smiled at the additional warmth he could already feel it generating. "That's nice, Mel. Feels good."

"I'm glad you think so," she said, pulling the other covers up again and tucking him in. "Are you going to be okay alone or do you want me to sit up with you?"

"No, Mel. You should rest as well."

"Okay," she said quietly, switching off the bedside lamp. "I'll be in the living room. You call if you need anything at all."

"Okay, Mel. You call, too, if you need anything."

"Okay, Cole." Mel smiled gently down at him, brushing his hair out of his face. "You sleep well."

"Yes, Mel. I'll try to."

Mel nodded and rose, giving his shoulder a pat and then leaving the bedroom. Sighing deeply and more tired than she would have thought possible this time last year, she grabbed a comforter and dropped onto the couch, yawning and curling up. 

***

Forty-five sleepless minutes later, Mel had almost given up on the idea of a nap. Tossing and turning on the couch only seemed to have left her more exhausted. Shaking her head in disgust, she rose and walked to the bedroom to check on Cole. 

Unlike Mel, Cole had obviously had no trouble at all getting to sleep. He was huddled under the pile of blankets, curled in a tight ball and shivering, but he sound asleep. She could not help but smile at his innocent little-boy expression. Most of the time, he looked like a human male in his late thirties or early forties. There were times when the weight of the universe on his shoulders made him appear infinitely older to her, almost ancient. And then there were times like these, when he seemed infinitely younger. It had less to do with any actual change in his _appearance_ and everything to do with his manner and the way he carried himself. 

As physically exhausted as the meningitis had left her, there were times when his responsibilities had him every bit as exhausted emotionally. Now, though, with his troubles temporarily on-hold, clearly not penetrating into his sleeping mind, he looked absolutely beautiful and at peace. Smiling, she sat down next to him and brushed his hair out of his face. Cole smiled and mumbled in his sleep, nuzzling his face into her hand. She could not resist letting her hand linger there for another moment longer, her fingertips lightly playing across his cheek and forehead. In the past several weeks, she had really grown to enjoy little acts of closeness between them, even just the stolen touches and furtive glances. _Especially_ those fevered touches, that soothing heat that poured off of him and that he always seemed more than wiling to share with her.

His skin, now, though, was too cold. Actually _cold_ instead of just less warm than usual. Skin that _always_ radiated heat seemed to be sucking it in, struggling to maintain a working minimum temperature. And failing. The contentment of being close to Cole, the joy of touching him, gave way to concern and anxiety. As far as they had come together in the past months, she could not lose him like this, _would_ not.

"Cole," she whispered, shaking him gently. "Come on, Cole. Wake up."

"Mel?" he whispered, opening his eyes and staring up at her. "I'm cold, Mel…"

"I know you are, baby," she whispered, sliding to her knees next to the bed. "Don't worry. We'll get you warm again," she promised. Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her shirt.

Cole watched her with glazed eyes, uncomprehending. "Mel?"

"It's okay, Cole. It's a human way of conserving body-heat," she explained, rising and stripping off her pants. "We need to get you warm again, I think." 

"I think so, Mel," he murmured, closing his eyes again. "Why... why so cold, Mel?"

"You, your Cirronian physiology," she murmured, sliding under the covers next to him. "Your temperature goes down. It's too low."

"Too low, Mel," he agreed quietly. "The infection… Too fast, Mel. Viruses... dangerous."

"I know, Cole," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and tugging him close to her. "But you're going to be okay. I'm going to take care of you."

"Take care of each other," he mumbled, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around her. 

"What should I do?" she asked, rubbing his arms and back briskly as she would have with a human, trying to bring up his core temperature, not sure what else _to_ do. "How can I help?"

"This helps," he assured her in an unnervingly weak voice. "Feel warmer."

"Okay." She nodded faintly and kept rubbing. "Just try to rest. We'll get your temperature back up."

"Okay, Mel," he agreed, nuzzling his face into her shoulder and then laying still in her arms. 

"You stay with me, Cole," she whispered. "I mean it."

"Stay with you," came the whispered response, strangely firm given how weak his voice was. "Forever. Kal'tra ka, Taushi."

Mel's eyes widened faintly. "Cole, I didn't understand one word of that." 

"Pehtah, Cirrian."

"You're speaking Cirronian, aren't you?" she whispered, staring at him with wide eyes. "Cole, I don't understand one word of Cirronian…" She frowned. "Why are you speaking Cirronian? Oh, God, you're delirious, aren't you?"

He regarded her blankly. Shuddering once and snuggling in to her arms again, he closed his eyes and lay still.

"No, Cole. Wake up," she muttered, shaking him. Humans got delirious from high fevers, because the fever was damaging their brains. Maybe Cole's low temperature was doing the same, slowly killing him and not a thing she could do about it. She had probably even compounded the problem by giving him a double-shot of aspirin-bearing Nyquil. "Come on! I need you to stay with me. Please, just _stay_…" she pled. "Come on, Cole," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I **_need_** you. Stay with me, okay?"

"Sh… shtay?" he mumbled thickly.

"Yes!" Mel agreed, nodding quickly. "Yes, Cole. Stay. Stay."

"Shtay," he agreed, nodding weakly and shrugging out of her grasp. Grabbing a quilt, he stumbled from the room, about as coordinated as he had been the first time she had laid eyes on him.

"Cole?" Mel asked, grabbing a robe. She heard what sounded suspiciously like the end-table in the hallway being knocked over and quickly followed him, shrugging into her robe as she went. Sure enough, the table was on its side and the vase it had borne lay shattered nearby.

She caught up with him in the kitchen. He was naked except for his boxers, glowing in large patches, clutching the blanket wrapped around his shoulders with one hand like a cape, and looked around thoughtfully.

"Cole, what are you doing?" she asked, frowning. Under any other circumstance, the sight would have been laughable. In the current circumstances, it was only frightening, especially given that glazed, far away look in his eyes. "Cole? Are you okay?"

"Sh… shtay," he announced, opening the cabinet and pulling down a bottle of maple syrup. 

Mel stared with wide eyes as the Cirronian, now blanketless, leaned against the counter, unscrewed the lid, and began _drinking_ the maple syrup. Shaking her head, she bent to retrieve the blanket, draping it over his shoulders again.

"Is that what this is, Cole? Shtay? Is that the Cirronian word for... Syrup? Sweet?" she asked, reaching for the bottle. 

Cole let out a loud yell and pulled the bottle from her reach, guzzling the contents and glaring at her.

"I wasn't going to take it," she told him gently. "I was just wondering. Look, why don't you take that back into the bedroom. You're going to get cold out here."

Cole frowned suspiciously at her, but let her steer him into the bedroom anyway, clutching the bottle tightly.

"It's okay, Cole," she assured him, pushing him onto the bed and wrapping the electric blanket around him again. "You're going to be okay," she promised. "I'll take care of you. Just… enjoy..." 

She shivered, unable to imagine _ever_ having swallowed even _half_ that much of the strongly-flavored syrup in one sitting. Or, for that matter, in one _month_... She was not entirely sure it was healthy, but was not sure if she could really stop him, either. He was off in his own world, only peripherally aware of her, and he had reacted almost violently when she had gotten too close to the bottle. She doubted he even knew who she was at this point, and she did not want to risk an altercation with a delirious, out-of-it Cirronian. Especially when, for all she knew, the sugar in the syrup was good for him. The way he was constantly guzzling ice-cream and candy and pouring massive quantities of sugar into his coffee, it was entirely possible.

Before Mel's eyes, Cole managed to empty the bottle, even wetting his fingers to retrieve a few stray drops around the rim. He regarded the empty bottle wistfully, then looked at Mel. 

"Nueh? Shtay me'a nueh?" he asked hopefully.

She did not have to know Cirronian to be able to judge that expression. He wanted more. Mel blinked faintly, but since he actually did seem a little more coherent, she did not argue. Maybe the sugar _was_ doing him some good.

"Yeah, I think we have more," she muttered, rising and hurrying into the kitchen. She cursed when she could not find another bottle of syrup in the cabinet. After a few minutes of searching, she found a bottle of corn-syrup. It was just going to have to be good enough, she decided.

Cole smiled happily as she entered the room with it, dropping the empty bottle and grabbing the corn-syrup from Mel instead.

"You're going to give yourself a stomachache," Mel told him, frowning as he opened the bottle and started to chug the contents. "Maybe you should slow down?"

Cole ignored her.

"Cole?" Mel asked, frowning. "Damn it, Cole, can you understand me?" she demanded, her voice rising with her emotions.

Frowning, he put the bottle down and rose, approaching Mel. When she took an involuntary step backwards, he simply took another one towards her.

"Cole, you're scaring me just a little here," she whispered, backing away a little more. Her eyes widened as she realized that she had just backed herself into a corner.

"Ay-ay, Taushi," he whispered, moving to stand in front of her. He regarded her searchingly, frowning sadly. "Mel, Taushi, ay-ay. Ay-ay… Ah ette. Ni kal etten, Mel. Hwa'annin…" Sighing, he reached up with both hands and began caressing her throat.

Mel stared up at him with wide eyes, gradually relaxing as she realized that he was trying in his own way to comfort her, to tell her not to be afraid. In spite of the odd behaviors his delerium had driven him to, he was still her Cole, still her loving, concerned Cirronian roommate. 

"I'm just… I'm worried about you," she whispered.

"Ah ette, Melah en'i i…" he breathed, his expression tender.

When he leaned towards her, her first thought was that he was about to kiss her. She would not have stopped him, either, she realized, startled by that as well. She was so startled by her own willingness to kiss him if that was what he wanted that she nearly failed to realize that he was, in fact, in the process of passing out. With a startled cry, she caught him by the arms, trying to keep him from falling. As heavy as he was and as weak as she was, she only managed to land on the bottom of the pile. The Cirronian followed closely, knocking the wind out of her as his bulk wedged her firmly against the floor.

"Cole, are you conscious?" she managed when she had caught her breath again. No answer. "Great," she sighed, rolling him off of her and quickly feeling for a pulse. 

She breathed a sigh of relief to feel his pulse strong. His skin was still cold to the touch, though. Sighing and nodding to herself, she set about trying to haul him into the bed. Fifteen minutes later, she had to acknowledge that it was a losing battle. Shaking her head in disgust at her own weakness, she just stripped the blankets off of the bed and draped them over Cole where he lay on the floor, sliding a pillow under his head and nudging him into a comfortable position before climbing under the blankets next to him.

"Don't scare me like that," she murmured, tears in her eyes. "Damn it, Cole, don't you ever scare me like that again!" she shouted, feeling half-hysterical. She had actually almost lost him. The thought of life without him left her feeling like a piece of her heart had been ripped out.

"Taushi," the unconscious man mumbled, wrapping his arms around her in his sleep. "Ta thalla enicé hwa. Hwa ni ette, ni kal. Ni hwa tel, ni kal. Hwa'annin…"

"Yeah," she sighed, nodding weakly. "Whatever, Cole. Sweet dreams, big guy."

***

Cole came awake to the awareness of a splitting headache and a hard bed. And… a woman in his arms? He opened his eyes hesitantly, glancing around. Why was he lying on the floor? That consideration was immediately replaced by another, though. Not only was he lying on the floor, he was doing so with _Mel_ in his arms. Not that he was complaining… on the contrary, he was actually enjoying himself quite a bit, in spite of his headache, sore muscles, fatigue, and general discomfort.

Reluctant to relinquish his hold on Mel, he simply tightened his grip on the sleeping woman. She mumbled in her sleep and snuggled more firmly into his chest. Which was when the Cirronian realized that she was wearing almost as little as he was. Her discarded robe lay nearby, and her clothes were sitting on the dresser near his, leaving nothing to her but her bra and underwear. He smiled faintly at this awareness and stole a cautious glance under the blankets. From what he could see, the white cotton undergarments looked a _lot_ more appealing on Mel than they did in the hamper, he decided, dropping the blanket again and closing his eyes.

The disorientation of sleep started to clear from his brain, leaving him wondering what had happened to lead to him finding himself in a pose like this with Mel. Certainly the shy, modest woman must have had a good reason for taking her clothes off and getting under the blankets with him, but he honestly could not remember. 

She had brought him to her room to take a nap and then left him: he remembered that. Obviously more had gone on since, though. A glance over his shoulder at the clock told him that it was three. The fact that there was not even a little light filtering through the windows told him that it was three in the morning. The fact that he was still exhausted told him that his sleep, while prolonged, had not been restful. Sighing deeply, he rose, lifting the blankets and Mel into his arms and transferring them onto the bed. Smiling adoringly down at the sleeping woman, he straightened the blankets around her and shifted her into a more comfortable position.. 

After a moment's internal debate, he slid under the blankets again, moving next to Mel. After all, if she had climbed under the blankets with him in the first place, he reasoned, she could not possibly object to him doing the same a few hours later. Besides which, he was still painfully cold, and Mel's proximity seemed to help. He slid his arms around her again, smiling when she rolled onto her side and snuggled against him. Being sick may have been hellish, but _this_ particular aspect of it was lovely indeed. Smiling, he closed his eyes and quickly fell back into a deep sleep. 

His dreams, when they came, were of the amazing creature in his arms, of perhaps some day being allowed to hold her like this when he was _not_ sick.

***

_The light's wrong_. 

Mel knew that even before she opened her eyes. Used to getting up by seven or eight in the morning, she knew exactly where the light should be and how intensely it should be making itself known through still-closed eyelids. This light was from much later in the day, leading her to wonder how much she had overslept and why Cole had let her.

As wakefulness began to intrude more firmly, she stopped worrying about oversleeping. Who, in fact, gave a damn about malfunctioning alarm clocks when she was in the arms of such a very well-put-together man? Certainly no young woman in her right mind. Except that…

"_Cole…_" she whispered in alarm, cautiously opening one eye. What the hell was she doing in bed with _Cole_?

"Good morning, Mel," he answered languidly, not seeming even a little concerned by their respective positions. 

Mel decided to take her cues from him. "Good morning, Cole," she began cautiously. Which was when memories of the past night hit her. Gasping, she sat up, one hand immediately finding Cole's forehead. "Oh, my God, Cole! Are you okay?" she demanded, her hands cupping his face and her eyes searching his anxiously. 

His skin was still cold, still greedily sucking up her own body's warmth, but no longer the deathly cold it had been the night before. She breathed a sigh of relief and flopped back onto her pillows. She immediately wished she had not when Cole propped himself up on one arm, leaning over her.

"I'm fine, Mel. I still feel quite poorly, but I'm fine." He smiled down at her, reaching for her throat. "What was I doing on the floor last night, Mel?" 

"You don't remember?"

"No, Mel. I remember going to sleep on the bed, then finding myself on the floor with you. What was I doing on the floor?"

"Speaking an awful lot of Cirronian…"

"Was I speaking Cirronian? I don't remember, Mel," he told her, his expression confused.

"I think you were delirious. You were so cold, and you seemed really out of it."

He frowned faintly. "I might have been speaking Cirronian," he admitted. "But I don't remember."

"Do you remember drinking two bottles of syrup?"

Cole frowned down at her, shaking his head. "That's a lot of syrup, Mel," he noted.

"Uh, _yeah_." Mel nodded faintly, smiling uncertainly up at him. "You were going on about… shteh? Shtah?"

Cole considered for a moment. "Shtay, Mel? Sugar?"

"Yeah."

"I must have been very weak," he decided.

"Yeah. So I gathered when you collapsed on top of me. Are you okay, Cole?"

"I am now. Last night… I honestly don't know, Mel." He paused, frowning. "I collapsed on you?" he asked abruptly, frowning. "Mel, are you okay? Were you hurt?" he asked quickly, his hands finding her throat and his eyes making a quick sweep of her scantily-clad body.

Mel smiled faintly and shook her head. "No, Cole. I wasn't hurt. Just _very_ worried about you. You kept going on and on in Cirronian. I _think_ it was Cirronian," she amended. "I was..." Trailing off, she sat up, shaking her head and biting her lower lip against the tears that threatened. "I was... _so worried_," she whispered.

When her tears refused to be denied further, Cole simply gathered her into his arms and held her close while she sobbed. Feeling her obvious, intense distress, he could not even enjoy holding her close very much. His own tears mingled with her own after a few minutes as he came to understand exactly how afraid of losing him she had been. 

After her own illness, it was a fear that he could readily sympathize with. 

  



	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"So," Mel sighed after she had managed to compose herself. "Uh..." She reluctantly disengaged herself from his gentle embrace. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine other than a nasty shtaybacht." Cole smiled reassuringly down at her. 

"A what?" Mel asked, blinking. "God, Cole, don't start speaking Cirronian on me again."

"It's okay, Mel. I just could not find the human word." He smiled reassuringly. "It is... not unlike a hangover, I think. From the sugar."

"Why _did_ you drink all that stuff anyway?" Mel asked, frowning and shivering slightly at the memory of the delirious Cirronian chugging maple syrup.

"I don't know. If I was really delirious, it might have been shtaytacht." He paused, considering how to explain. The splitting headache, aching muscles, and other effects of his chickenpox and shtaybacht were making it incredibly difficult to concentrate. "Cirronians have a very rapid metabolism," he began.

"You mentioned that." Mel nodded faintly. "It's why you got sick and went downhill so fast." 

"Yes. Our metabolism means that we also have very high energy requirements. When our bodies fight disease, it takes even more energy. If we can not take in enough calories, our bodies will begin to shut down. Eventually, our brain may as well. It is like starvation only... accelerated."

"You would have died if you hadn't thought to drink the maple syrup?" Mel whispered, aware that her lower lip was trembling and her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Not immediately, but eventually." Cole nodded apologetically. "I'm actually surprised that I was lucid enough to think of it."

"So am I... I really thought I was about to lose you," Mel whispered, closing her eyes against the idea of Cole dying in her arms. She opened them again when she felt gentle fingers drying away her tears. 

"Why are you dressed like this, Mel?" he asked gently, trying to side-track her thoughts from their obviously-distressing line. "Why were you under the blankets with me?"

"You were so cold and... unconscious. I was trying to warm you up. I didn't know what else to do for you." 

He smiled warmly down at her, nodding reassuringly. "You did well, Mel. I doubt I would have been able to regain consciousness at all without the warmth you shared with me. It allowed my body to divert some energy back to my brain."

"I was afraid you weren't going to wake up," she added quietly. "I just kept hanging on to you and... just begging you to stay with me."

"Shtay," Cole murmured, his smile growing. "That must have been what made me realize what was happening, that I needed shtay, sugar."

"Oh..." Mel chuckled weakly. _Stay with me..._ That clichéd phrase had actually saved Cole's life? "And how... how do you feel now?"

"Sick, Mel." Cole smiled weakly. "And a little hung over," he added with a wry smile, hoping to cheer her.

"Tired?"

"Yes, Mel." 

"So lie back down," she directed gently, rearranging his pillows. "You're going to be okay, aren't you?"

"Well, my body is still very weak, but no longer in immediate danger of shutting down."

"Good. That's good," Mel whispered, hugging him close for a moment before pushing him back against the pillows. "What do I do if it happens again?"

"Just force me to eat as much sugar as you can. There would be other therapies on Cirron, but sugar is considered the standard... field-medicine." 

"Okay, good. Now, how do I _prevent_ it?" she asked.

"We must keep my temperature up so that my body does not need to divert resources to that and I must be sure to eat enough."

"Well, that at least shouldn't be _too _hard," Mel sighed, absently rearranging the blankets around him. "You're always hungry." 

"I'm not hungry now," Cole sighed, shaking his head and huddling farther under the blankets. 

"How about some ice-cream?" Mel offered hopefully. 

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep it down, Mel," he told her apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Just a little?" she asked. "Think you can try to have just a little? For me?"

"I'll try, Mel. Can I have more of that... Nyquil, too? My head hurts."

"I don't think that's wise, Cole. Nyquil has aspirin and aspirin lowers a person's temperature." She sighed faintly. "I'll see if we have any Tylenol."

"Thank you, Mel." Cole smiled and started to sit up.

"Oh no you don't." Mel shook her head firmly and gently pushed him back into a prone position. "You stay right there. You need to conserve as much energy as possible."

"Mel," he began to protest.

"Mel, nothing." She shook her head firmly. "Doctors orders, Cole. You are hereby confined to that bed until _I_ give you a clean bill of health."

"Mel!" he protested. "How will I work?" 

"You won't. You will _rest_, the way you've been making me rest for the past two months. You'll thank me later."

Cole sighed and gave in, too tired and weak to argue. Every muscle in his body ached, his head hurt, his stomach was threatening to revolt, every inch of his body _itched_... More deeply exhausted than he would have thought possible, he relaxed against the pillows and closed his eyes, drifting in and out of what was either sleep or unconsciousness. 

"Still with me?" a gentle voice asked a few minutes later.

"Yes, Mel," he whispered, not opening his eyes. 

"Good. Open your mouth."

A little confused by the request, he opened one eye instead. Mel was holding two pills in one hand and there was a bowl of ice-cream and a glass of water on the nightstand. 

"Tylenol. Last two in the house."

"Thank you, Mel," he said, letting her slide the pills between his lips. They tingled where her fingers touched, making him smile faintly.

"Here." Mel picked up the glass of water and held it to his mouth. "I put sugar in it. Figured it couldn't hurt."

"No," he agreed, taking a long gulp. "It will probably help me feel better."

"That's good." Mel smiled faintly. "Then I'll keep it coming. Not too sweet, is it?"

Cole shook his head faintly. "I like sweet things. It's nice." 

_Very_ nice, actually. That first long gulp had hit his churning stomach, instantly calming it and sending tendrils of warmth wending their way through his body. He almost imagined that he could _feel_ the sugar's progress through his bloodstream, and when it hit his head, the dull ache there started to recede. He gulped gratefully at the sugar water until Mel pulled the glass away.

"Not so fast, Cole," she urged gently, shaking her head. "You'll make yourself sick. Take _slow_ sips..." 

"Yes, Mel," he agreed quietly, forcing himself to drink more slowly when she lifted the glass to his mouth again.

"Want to try some ice-cream now?" Mel offered when he had drained the glass. "Cookies and cream..."

"Yes, please, Mel," he agreed, reaching for the spoon. His stomach really did feel a lot better just having something in it.

"I've got it," Mel assured him, picking up the bowl and lifting a spoonful of ice-cream to his mouth.

"Thank you, Mel," Cole said, accepting the ice-cream and smiling widely. Even if it was a little cold for his taste, the flavor was very much to his liking. He winced as the cold sent a spike of pain through his head, only intensifying the already-present ache. 

"Brain freeze?" Mel asked sympathetically, putting the bowl aside. At his pained nod, she rose. "Okay, I'll get you some more sugar-water and we can make some hot soup if you feel up to it."

"I can try, Mel," he assured her quietly. 

"Chicken or tomato?" she offered.

"_Not_ chicken, Mel," he told her firmly, shaking his head. 

Mel chuckled and nodded. "Tomato it is, then," she said, rising. "And another glass of sugar-water." 

"Thank you, Mel," Cole sighed, struggling to ignore his discomfort. It was a losing battle and, by the time Mel returned, there were tears trailing down his cheeks as he violently scratched his chest. 

Ignoring his tears, she gently caught his hands and pushing them away from his chest to assess the damage. He had scratched himself raw but was not, mercifully, bleeding. The last thing he needed was to divert even more of his body's energy to healing himself.

"Look, we'll get some soup in your stomach, then I'll get some more calamine lotion on you. Sound good?"

"Yes, Mel. Thank you, Mel." 

"Horrible, isn't it?" Mel asked quietly as she spooned tomato soup into his mouth. "Being so sick?"

"Yes, Mel." He sighed weakly. "It is. It must be so frustrating for you."

"Yeah, it is." She spooned some more soup into his mouth, catching a few stray drops with a napkin. "But chickenpox tends to run its course fairly quickly. You should be as good as new in no time."

"I hope so, Mel," Cole sighed quietly.

"You've never been really sick before, have you?"

"Not physically ill, no Mel. When I was younger, I would sometimes get hurt exploring where I should not have, but such injuries heal very quickly even without medical intervention."

She nodded her understanding. "More soup?" she offered.

"No, thank you, Mel. I think I'd just like to rest some more if you don't mind."

"Sure. You want company?" she offered, knowing how much easier it was for her to get to sleep with him there keeping _her_ company.

"Yes, please, Mel." 

"Okay. I'll just put this in the kitchen. Why don't you have a little more sugar-water while I do that?" she suggested, handing him the glass.

"Thank you, Mel." He smiled warmly up at her, sipping at the water as she left.

Mel returned with a bottle of calamine lotion. "Do you think you can sit up for this?" she asked. "So I can get your back, too?"

"I can try, Mel," he assured her, struggling into a sitting position. 

"Ooh, careful. Here." Mel winced at his lack of coordination, reaching out and wrapping her arms around him as he struggled into a sitting position. It was not lost on her that he had to rely heavily on her help to sit completely upright. "Okay, let's make this quick so you can lie back down."

"Okay, Mel," he agreed. He was a little disappointed that she would not be spending much time on the task of rubbing the lotion into his itchy skin, but also grateful that he would not have to remain upright for long. 

"You know, I wasn't wrong about this stuff spreading over your entire body fast," Mel observed. "You are absolutely _covered_. Here, you get your legs while I do this."

He nodded faintly, looking down at himself as Mel began rubbing lotion into his back. The 'spots' were no longer recognizable as such. They had spread to cover almost his entire body, blending into one another until he was covered in large, glowing patches. In fact, he had more such patches of glowing skin than he had regular skin: he actually had to look for several seconds to find any unaffected skin. 

How was he supposed to do his job, or even leave the apartment, when he was _glowing_ head to toe? He could only hope that it would go away soon. Sighing, Cole closed his eyes and bowed his head, relaxing under Mel's care as she gently smoothed the lotion into his itchy back.

"That helping?" she asked gently, peering over his shoulder to make sure his legs were well-coated.

"Yes, Mel. That's a lot better. Thank you." Cole smiled over his shoulder at her. 

"That's what friends are for," Mel said, shrugging and smiling back at him. 

She suddenly found herself recalling, with something verging on panic, the last time she had rubbed him down with calamine lotion, of his reaction to _that_. She focused on applying a thick, even layer of the calamine on his back, pushing those memories aside. Focusing was a little harder when she had to move on to his chest. 

There were just very few safe places to look. Down was out. Looking at his face, she risked seeing his emotional reaction rather than his physical one. She focused squarely on his chest until it was completely, uniformly coated. 

"Better?" she asked, smearing some lotion on the worst patches on his face as well but still avoiding his eyes. 

"Much better, Mel. Thank you." Cole smiled at her. "It doesn't itch so badly any more."

"I'm glad." Mel grinned at him, leaning around to see if the lotion on his back was dry. She nodded to herself. "You can lie down now," she told him.

"Thank you, Mel. Are you going to lie down again as well?" he asked, laying back and pulling up the covers.

Mel's eyes widened faintly at the offer. They were both still dressed in nothing but underwear, she had just given him a rubdown that had led to a fairly obvious reaction, and now he was asking if she planned on joining him in bed. It did not really matter that he had not meant it the way that a human male would have, not with the emotional intimacy between them growing by leaps and bounds every day. 

"Oh, Cole, I don't think..."

"You're very tired, Mel. I can sense it," he told her. "You promised me that you would take care of yourself if I could not. You must rest now."

Mel nodded faintly, more moved by the obvious concern in his tone than by his words. She rose and circled the bed, sliding under the covers on her side. Part of her expected Cole to close the distance between them. Part of her _wanted_ that. But Cole just watched her as she found a comfortable position and continued to watch her until long after she had fallen asleep. 

  



	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Mel jerked awake at the sound of a ringing phone. Next to her, Cole slumbered on, providing more than ample illumination for her to find the phone without difficulty. She answered it quickly, before the ringing could pull him from his much-needed rest. Trying to clear the sleep from her brain, she mumbled an incoherent greeting into the phone.

"Oh, sorry, Mel. Didn't mean to wake you..."

"S'okay, Jess," Mel yawned, leaning across the bed and resting her hand against Cole's cheek. The skin was still unnaturally cold, but she was a little comforted when he reached up in his sleep, catching her hand and nuzzling it. Sighing, she freed her hand and carried the phone into the living room. "How's it going?"

"I'm fine. Just wondering how you and Cole are holding up..."

"Uh, we're hanging in there okay."

"Is he sick? Jonas and I were worried about him."

Mel hesitated. "He'll be fine, I'm sure."

There was a long pause. "Is that a yes?"

"Well, he's a little under the weather," Mel admitted. "But it's nothing serious."

"You're sure?" Jess asked, concern coloring her voice. "I mean, he looked _really_ peaked the other night..."

"It's not serious. He's... it's the chickenpox, Jess," Mel chuckled in spite of herself. Her big, strong, indestructible Tracker was bedridden because of the _chickenpox_. "He got them from Rebecca."

"Have you had him in to a doctor yet, Mel? I've heard that chickenpox can be damned serious in an adult..."

"So I noticed," Mel muttered. "No, Jess, he's fine. Just... patchy." 

Jess chuckled. "Poor Cole... I can't believe he's never had it before."

"Yeah, well..." Mel shrugged. "You know. These things happen sometimes. Don't worry, though. I'm keeping an eye on him. He'll be fine."

"Well... if you're _sure_..."

"I am, Jess. Don't worry."

"Okay, Mel. What about you? How're you holding up? If you have your hands too full taking care of him, I can nip over..."

Mel winced. As much as she appreciated Jess' offer, as much as she could have used the help, there was no way that she could have the girl in the apartment when Cole was glowing in the dark and babbling in Cirronian. Telling her the truth about him under the best of circumstances would have been a questionable enough proposition. Telling her when Cole was in the kind of shape he was now... _not_ an option.

"That's okay, Jess. He's a lot better already. He just needs to rest. I've got it covered." 

"You sure, Mel? I don't want you overdoing..."

"Hey, you handle the bar like we talked about and I'll handle Cole and myself," Mel assured her. "We're both just fine, really."

"Yeah?" Jess asked uncertainly. "You sure, Mel?"

"I'm sure, Jess," Mel reassured the girl, dropping wearily onto the couch but not letting fatigue creep into her voice. "We just need rest. Cole especially. He's never been really sick before--"

"Either of you need company?" Jess offered. 

"Nah, Jess, not right now. Neither of us is really thrilled about being sick and I doubt we'd make the best company."

"Okay... but if you change your mind..."

"We'll let you know," Mel promised. "Don't worry, Jess. It won't be for much longer." _I hope..._

She looked up as Cole walked into the living room, wrapped in one of her heavy comforters. Smiling to see him up and around, she mouthed a greeting. Cole smiled back and approached her, sitting next to her and lightly caressing her throat. That gentle attention was making it very hard to focus on what Jess was saying.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, could you repeat that?" 

"I asked if either of you needed anything. You sure you okay, Mel?"

"I'm fine. Just... tired." Mel closed her eyes as Cole continued caressing her throat, smiling warmly at her. 

"So, do you?"

"Do I..." Mel began, trying to divine what Jess meant. "Oh, uh... yeah, Jess, if you could pick up some Tylenol on your way to work, I'd be grateful."

"No problem, Mel. That it?"

"Yeah. I stocked up the other day, but I didn't know that Cole... can't take aspirin." 

"He allergic?" Jess asked. "I read about that. It can be nasty."

"_Very_ nasty," Mel agreed quietly. 

"He running much of a temperature?"

"Low one," she answered honestly.

"Just so it's not too high. High fever can really mess with your brain."

"I know they can," Mel agreed. The low ones, too, apparently in the case of Cirronians.

"Just the Tylenol, then?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, Jess. Thanks." Mel hazarded a glance over at Cole who had managed to find a comfortable position and was now dozing lightly, his head nodding.

"Right. I'll pick up a bottle on the way in to work, then. Should I run it up?"

"Nah, Jess," Mel answered in what she hoped was a casual tone. "I'll run down and get it."

"You sure?" Jess asked.

"Yeah," she answered firmly. "I want to check on how things are going in the bar anyway."

"Right, then. If you're sure..."

"I am. Thanks, Jess. You're a life-saver." 

"No problem. Jonas made me promise that I wouldn't let you overdo." 

"Did he?" Mel asked with a wry smile.

"He did. Said Irene would come back and haunt him to his dying day if he let anything bad happen to her itty--"

"Don't finish that sentence, Jess," Mel advised warningly. "And when you haven't finished it, I want you to forget that you ever heard Jonas call me that, okay?"

Jess giggled. "Oh but, Mel, it's such a cute nickname!" she protested.

"_Jess,_" Mel warned.

"Does Cole know it?"

"No, and he's not going to find out, either. You understand me, Jess?"

"If you say so, itty-bitty huggly-buggly," Jess giggled before hanging up.

Mel closed her eyes and took a deep breath, counting to ten. It did not work. "I'm going to kill Jonas," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Why, Mel?" a curious voice inquired next to her.

"Oh, no reason, Cole," Mel assured him with a smile. 

The Cirronian frowned faintly. "Mel, Jonas is a good friend to us both. You should not kill him."

She grinned. "Okay, Cole. I promise not to kill Jonas."

"That's good, Mel."

_But that doesn't mean that he's not going to **hear** about it..._ She smiled reassuringly at Cole. "Let's get you back to bed, okay?" she suggested.

"Mel, I don't wish to rest," he protested. "I must work."

"Cole, you have to rest. You want to go _Tracking_ looking like this?" she asked, gesturing widely towards him. 

He was just too conspicuous. Every visible inch of skin was glowing, and that was rather a lot of skin since all he was wearing were his briefs. Even in the well-lit living room and covered in calamine, he was throwing off a brilliant golden-brown glow. It was beautiful. Her eyes widened marginally at that awareness and she blinked to clear her head, wondering where the stray thought had come from. Rather than being denied, though, the thought continued to nag and, as it gained a foothold, to grow.

"Why are you staring at me, Mel?" Cole asked uncertainly.

Mel swallowed hard, reaching up and cupping his cheek in one hand. "Is this what you really look like, Cole?" she whispered, her voice wavering for no good reason she could guess. Or, at least, none she cared to admit to.

He frowned faintly at the question, but answered anyway, staring down at his bare chest as he spoke. "This is very close to the natural color of my skin, but my natural form is quite different." 

"Oh." Mel nodded faintly, wondering why she was suddenly so interested. 

Probably because, for the first time since meeting him, it was impossible to look at him and _not_ notice that he was not human. She had, of course, been curious about what he really looked like since finding out that he was not human, but she had not wanted to pry, either, and she really had no idea how Cole might react to the question anyway.

"You are still curious?" Cole ventured quietly. 

"Uh... just a little," Mel admitted, shrugging. "It's no big deal, though."

He frowned faintly. "Why does your curiosity embarrass you, Mel?" 

Mel looked up at him with wide eyes, startled. He could be damned perceptive at times, sometimes too much so. "Just a... personal kind of thing to want to know..."

"Not really, Mel." Cole smiled faintly. "I know what you look like, after all."

"Uh, true..." Mel shrugged and nodded faintly. 

"Cirronians are much smaller than humans," Cole told her. "I was very tall for a Cirronian, but Jonas' granddaughter is taller."

Mel blinked. "You're... shorter than a nine year old?"

"Yes, Mel." Cole smiled at her. "Why does that surprise you?"

"Uh... probably because I'm used to seeing you like this," Mel said, shrugging. "And you're just so _strong_..."

Cole chuckled faintly. "Most Cirronians are very strong, Mel. Our appearance is deceptive. We look very fragile."

Mel smiled wryly. "Yeah, well, there's nothing fragile about _you_."

His smile wavered. "I feel _very_ fragile right now," he sighed.

Mel gave a sympathetic sigh of her own, nodding. "I know you do, Cole," she told him. "But you won't forever. In a few days, you'll be as good as new."

"I hope so, Mel," he sighed, shaking his head. "I need to work," he repeated distractedly, rising and walking towards the war-room.

Mel grabbed the blanket he had been wrapped in and followed. "No, Cole!" she said firmly, shaking her head and stepping around him, barring his progress. "You need to _rest_. I mean... look at you!"

Cole looked down at himself, sighing. He was utterly exhausted, but the drive to work, to not let the fugitives get even one step ahead, was great. He suddenly understood why, in the early days of her own recovery, Mel had been so eager to work.

"You're sick and it sucks," she told him, shaking her head. "But you aren't going to get any better by ignoring it. I want you to go back to bed, Cole," she said gently.

"I need to _work_," he protested, frustrated. "There are police reports to read and I have to check--"

"Hey, I'll print out some stuff for you to go over in bed, okay?" Mel offered gently. "That way you can rest and still keep an eye on things. How's that sound?"

He smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Mel." 

She smiled gently back, pressing the comforter into his hands. "Okay, Cole. You go lie down and I'll get a few print-outs for you."

"Yes, Mel," he agreed, nodding.

She reached up and gently cupped his cheek in one hand. The flesh was still frighteningly cold, but he was definitely in better shape mentally than he had been the night before.

"Get some rest," she directed gently, waiting for him to walk back into her room before entering the war-room.

***

Mel sat down next to Cole as he leafed through the printouts she had provided, wanting to keep him company. 

"Anything... unusual?" she asked quietly after a moment.

Cole shook his head faintly. "It doesn't look like it, Mel. Very few of these crimes look like they were likely to have been perpetrated by the fugitives."

"Well, that's good at least," Mel said, nodding. 

"Yes, Mel."

"Cole, why'd you become a Tracker?" she asked abruptly. "I've always been curious about that. You don't seem the cop type to me."

He smiled faintly. "All a cop needs is to care about others, Mel. There is no other 'type'."

"Guess not," she agreed. 

On further reflection, she realized that he really _did_ have a lot of the characteristics you saw in human cops. He was compassionate towards victims, driven to find his suspects, almost obsessive about keeping civilians safe... Yeah, he was a cop through and through; his gentle nature did nothing to detract from that.

"Nallia and Ashi were very proud when I made the decision," he told her with a faintly reminiscent smile.

"Weren't they scared for you?"

He shook his head faintly. "Not really, Mel. I was always very big and strong for a Cirronian. They were sure I could take care of myself. They... they were sure that I could protect the whole Migar Federation, single-handed." His smile faded. "It's ironic. In the end, I couldn't even protect _them_..."

"Cole, that wasn't your fault," Mel protested. "Rhee did that. You couldn't have had any way of knowing..."

"I know. But it doesn't hurt less because of that."

"No, it never does. So you spend years second-guessing yourself..."

He nodded faintly. "They say time heals all wounds. Is that true?"

"I sure hope so," she whispered, leaning across the bed and pulling him into a tight hug. 

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"How's Cole holding up?" Jess asked as Mel handed her a tray of drinks.

"He should be completely recovered in a few days," Mel assured her, glancing at her watch. "I need to get back up now, okay?"

"Sure thing, Mel. Get some rest while you're up there," Jess ordered. 

"Believe me, I will," Mel assured her with a sigh. "These last few days have taken an awful lot out of me."

"Yeah, then you just have a nice long lay-in," Jess told her. "I can take over with Cole until he's better." 

"Oh, no..." Mel shook her head quickly. The glow had _almost_ faded, but it was still occasionally noticeable, especially if you got too close. "He just needs rest now. He's really doing worlds better."

"If I didn't know better, Mel, I'd think that you didn't want me seeing him, the way you're always skiving off my offers of help," Jess noted.

"Well, maybe he's just a big grouch when sick and I don't want to subject you to that."

"Yeah, right. Like Cole has a grouchy bone in his body..." Jess shook her head.

"Don't you have a table to deliver drinks to?" Mel asked abruptly, turning and hurrying from the bar.

"Chickenpox my bum," Jess muttered, shaking her head. "Wonder what's really wrong with him, anyway?"

***

Cole was propped up in Mel's bed, leafing through a handful of printouts. She still had him confined to bed and he still needed quite a lot of sleep, but he was rapidly growing stronger as the days passed. Once the itching had grown tolerable enough to allow him to comfortably wear clothes again, she had left the apartment long enough to buy him a large pair of _very_ comfortable silk pajamas, which he quite planned to keep wearing at night even after he no longer required sleep. It really had been a thoughtful gift, he reflected, more interested in ways to repay Mel for that kindness than the contents of the police reports in his hands. 

He smiled widely as the object of his reflections appeared in the doorway. "Hello, Mel."

"Hey," Mel greeted him with a smile of her own, sitting on the edge of the bed. He had still been sleeping when she had gone down to the bar, so she had not had an opportunity to talk to him yet. "How are you feeling today?" she asked, cupping his cheek in one hand. "Ooh, you're so warm," she said, her smile widening. It was the first time his skin had been warmer than hers since he had gotten sick and she took it as a very promising sign.

"Yes, Mel, I am much warmer now," he agreed, closing his eyes and just enjoying her touch for a moment. "I think I will be completely well very soon."

"Well, that's wonderful news," Mel said with a smile, giving his cheek a gentle pat before reluctantly withdrawing her hand. "I was really worried about you there for awhile." Impulsively, she brushed her lips quickly across his.

Cole stared up at her with wide eyes, amazed. The gesture itself was not an amazing one, certainly: Mel often kissed his cheek when he returned from Tracking and he had seen her kiss Vic on the mouth when they had been dating. What amazed him was his own reaction to the gesture that was only a modification of her more normal kisses on the cheek. Those made him feel quite nice, of course, made him feel warm all over and left his cheek tingling, but _this_... 

Oh, he was definitely feeling warm all over, but the tingling sensation had not confined itself to the kissed area this time, either. It had radiated outward from his mouth to encompass his entire body. Even his fingers and toes were alive with the energy of it. Energy and... longing. Recalling the way it had felt to hold this radiant creature in his arms, both less than half dressed... Repeating this gesture with Mel was suddenly the most important thing in his universe. It had felt so perfect, so right, had so completely erased what was left of his fatigue and discomfort. He wanted more, _needed_ it. To hold her so and to share another such kiss with her.

Mel's eyes widened as she watched the emotions flashing across his face but found herself unable to lean away as he reached up to cradle her face in both hands.

"Cole, I..." she began, her voice wavering. 

"I want to do that again, Mel," he informed her gently. "May I?"

"I really don't think that's a good idea, Cole," she whispered, swallowing hard.

"I really think it _is_ a good idea," Cole contradicted her gently. "It will be nice. Let me show you," he suggested hopefully, drawing her face closer.

"Hey, Mel, where did you leave the invoice for... _oh, bloody hell_. Sorry!" Jess gasped, taking in the scene in front of her. "Sorry," she repeated, backing away a few steps then turning and fleeing.

"Shit," Mel muttered, shaking her head. "Damn it! Just when I had her convinced we aren't involved..."

That reaction affected Cole like a blow to the stomach. "I... I'm sorry, Mel," he whispered, dropping his hands. "I... I'm sorry," he repeated helplessly, wondering why the hell his eyes were suddenly full of tears. "I don't... I didn't..."

"Oh, it's okay, Cole," Mel whispered, wiping away his tears. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you, Cole. It was just... bad timing. It's okay. Come here," she ordered, pulling him into a hug. 

Cole went obediently, but was not much comforted. He had sensed that the intimacy between them was growing by leaps and bounds since her illness and it had given him some hope that she might be willing to change the terms of their relationship. Mel's reaction, though, seemed to indicate otherwise. He sighed and reached up to dry away the last of his tears.

"I'm sorry, Mel," he repeated quietly. "I... I had hoped it might be something that you wanted. I... won't do it again."

"Cole, it's not that I don't... care about you. I do, you know that. It's just... complicated, too, you know?"

"I do, Mel," he agreed quietly, gently pulling out of her embrace. 

"Cole, we need time to... figure out what we're really feeling here. We've come so close to losing each other and we've been forced into this relationship where you've had to do just about everything for me and then I had to help you so much and... it's confusing, Cole." She sighed and shook her head. "You _like_ having someone to take care of, Cole. It reminds you of being married again. But... what if that's all it is? What if it's just that you like having someone to take care of?" she asked, tears in her own eyes. 

Cole regarded her tenderly, shocked by her words. She actually seemed receptive to the idea of a more intimate relationship between them. "What if it is more?" he asked gently, reaching out and drying her tears before giving her throat a soothing caress. 

"Then... time will tell." Mel shrugged. "There's no rush, Cole. You're not going anywhere any time soon, after all. Right now, we're in a state of... I don't know... enforced intimacy, I guess. So let's see what happens after that. Things will... they'll happen the way they're meant to happen."

"Yes, Mel," he agreed, smiling and nodding. "They will." In time she would grow to see him as a love, he was sure. They were meant to be, he had felt it in her kiss. "Jess seemed very upset, Mel. Maybe you should go comfort her?" he suggested.

"Yeah, think so. And try to do some damage control." Mel made a wry face. "Hey, could have been worse. At least she didn't notice that you were glowing." 

"There is that, Mel," Cole agreed with a faint smile, retrieving his printouts as she rose. "I'll see you later, Mel."

"Okay, Cole. I..." She paused at the threshold of the room, turning to face him, her expression conflicted.

She wanted to come back to him, he realized, his heart doing a back flip, to give him the requested kiss. At the same time, though, she was scared to. "I understand, Mel," he assured her, smiling gently and nodding. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah," she murmured, turning and leaving the temptations of the bedroom behind. She looked around the bar for Jess in time to see her duck into the back room, obviously trying to avoid her. Cursing under her breath, she followed. "Jess," she sighed, closing the door behind them. "It's not what you--"

"I know it wasn't... I'm sorry, Mel. My timing was ruddy awful, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it really was." Mel sighed and nodded. "Jess, I swear, nothing like that has ever happened before..."

"I know, Mel," Jess answered.

"You... know?" Mel repeated, blinking.

"Yeah. Cole adores you, but he told me when you were in the hospital that there wasn't anything going on with you."

"So months of not listening to me and all it takes is Cole telling you?" Mel asked with a grin, shaking her head. "Figures."

"Well, you know... We really opened up to each other the night you were admitted."

"I know," Mel said quietly, nodding. Cole's relationship to her was not the only one to have grown in intimacy since her illness. He was much closer to Jess as well.

"I bunged it up royally, didn't I?" Jess asked quietly. "I mean, he was finally taking the leap, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, he was about to take the leap, Jess, but I'd say that your timing was pretty much perfect."

Jess stared at her with wide eyes. "Mel, come on!" she protested. "I _know_ how you feel about him, even if you try not to let it show. It can _not_ have been unwelcome..."

"I'm not saying that I wasn't about to kiss the man, Jess, it's just... well, things are just very... confused right now. I mean, nearly losing each other and having to take the kind of care of each other than we've had to... it's just so confusing, Jess. My God, there are still nights when I need him to help me into the tub..." At Jess' wide eyes, she quickly added, "I mean, Cole's a perfect gentleman the whole time, always, not even taking a peek, but..."

"But it's not the sort of thing that 'just friends' do, either, is it?" Jess ventured, nodding her understanding. "You just don't know what you're feeling right now, do you, Mel?" she asked gently.

"No clue in Hell," Mel sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"You tell that to Cole?"

She gave a shaky nod, not quite able to bring herself to speak.

"He'll wait."

Mel's head shot up and she stared at Jess with wide eyes.

"He will. He adores you, Mel, and he'll wait for you to sort out your feelings." Jess gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her shoulder. "Why don't you run upstairs and get some rest?" she suggested.

"No." Mel shook her head. "I really don't think I can be with Cole right now without doing something stupid."

"Then you can just have a sit-down on one of the couches and I'll make you a cup of tea," Jess said firmly, steering Mel from the back room. "Jonas would have my hide if he caught me letting you be down here for any length of time, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I _still_ need to discuss him sharing that nickname with you," Mel noted.

"Oh, come on," Jess chuckled, shaking her head. "It's cute. And at least he didn't mention it to any of the other barmaids." She winked and nudged Mel in the direction of the nearest couch. "He's right, though. Irene'd want us to look after you."

"I have too many people looking after me lately," Mel grumbled, shaking her head and sinking onto the couch. She looked up as Jonas entered the bar, shaking her head. "And here's one now," she muttered, rising to meet him. "Jonas, hi!" she greeted him in a cheerful tone that immediately had the lawyer looking alarmed.

***

A week later, things were pretty much back to the way they had been before Cole had gotten ill. After Mel's tongue-lashing, Jonas was still shying away from spending any time in private with her, but the status quo was otherwise restored. Cole was no longer glowing even a little and was back to his Tracking duties and to following Mel around like a second shadow making sure she did not overdo. 

The kiss in the bedroom and the one that had almost followed it up were not mentioned by either; both were still trying to sort out their feelings. But the emotional intimacy between them was exactly what it had been before. Every little act of closeness was like a Communion between them, a gift in its own right. There were a few nights when Cole still needed sleep, and Mel offered him the use of his bed as readily as he continued to offer her help getting into the bath and brushing her hair. Nothing seemed more natural in the world than this 'enforced intimacy' and it had both beginning to wonder if it was only the situation or if the feelings really _had_ been there. 

"Having trouble with your hair, Mel?" a quiet voice asked as she tugged a comb through her wet curls.

Her head shot up and she smiled widely at him. "Hey, welcome back!" she said, climbing to her feet and walking to meet him. "How'd it go?"

"Very well, Mel," he told her, smiling as she stood on her toes and planted the requisite kiss on his cheek. "How was your day?"

"Uh... long," she admitted, shrugging. "But I'm feeling pretty good. Tired but... good."

"I am glad, Mel," he told her, tenderly caressing her throat for a moment. Her life-force was definitely growing in strength. "Here, let me help you with your hair," he offered, plucking the comb that she still held from her hand and gesturing towards the couch.

"Thanks, Cole. I just get so uncoordinated when I'm tired..."

"Yes, but that is getting better, too," he observed, smiling and sitting down next to her. "I've noticed that your hands do not shake as often, either," he told her, gently separating out a tangle. 

"Really?" she asked, smiling and relaxing as Cole gently worked out the tangles. "I hadn't even noticed that."

"I have. So have Jess and Jonas. We were discussing it yesterday."

"My God, don't you people have anything better to do?" she chuckled. 

"Better than taking care of you, Mel? Of course not." Cole smiled tenderly down at her for a moment before returning his attention to her hair. "Besides, I have it on good authority that your grandmother would come back and haunt us to our dying days if we let anything happen to you."

"That so?" Mel asked with a chuckle, shaking her head.

"Hold still, Mel," Cole directed absently. "This tangle is horrible..."

"Oh, sorry." Mel bowed her head and silently submitted until Cole had finished vanquishing the horrifying snarl, smiling to herself. That was her determined Tracker alright, zeroing in on his target and not stopping until it was no longer a problem. "Thank you, Cole," she said quietly as he rose, doing her best to keep the amusement from her expression as she accepted his proffered hand and allowed him to tug her to her feet.

"You're welcome, Mel," he answered with a warm smile. "Get some rest now."

"Okay." Mel nodded and followed him down the hall to her bedroom. She hesitated at the door. "What about you? You going to need any sleep tonight?"

He could not entirely keep regret from his expression or voice as he shook his head and said, "No, Mel. I will not require sleep tonight." 

Mel ignored the little pang of regret she felt at his words and nodded, forcing a smile. "Okay, Cole. You have a good night."

"You, too, Mel." He smiled warmly down at her and gave her throat a final caress. "Sleep well, Mel."

"Okay. Thanks, Cole. Night."

"Good night, Mel," he said softly, reluctantly turning to his own doorway. "Have sweet dreams."

"I will, Cole," she promised. 

"And if you do not--"

"I'll come get you," she promised, nodding. "Okay, Cole. And if you do need some rest after all, you just go ahead and join me."

"I will, Mel. Sleep well, Mel."

"Yeah, Cole. Night." 

Mel entered her own room then, aware that she could not really have prolonged their 'good nights' much longer. The simple truth was that she had had no desire whatsoever to say good night to Cole. She would much rather have had him join her, and that was a dangerous enough impulse without tempting fate further. 

Cole entered the war-room with a soft sigh. He had very badly wanted to join Mel in her room and it had nothing to do with his body's need for rest. He was almost completely recovered from his illness; he simply enjoyed being so close to Mel. Depositing his fugitive's life-force in the containment unit, he abandoned the war-room in favor of the living room couch, feeling the need to meditate and sort out his confused feelings.

He did not take his meditation father than second-stage so that he would not lose track of the state of Mel's life-force. It was not the deepest of Cirronian meditation cycles, but it would be enough to refresh his mind and body while still retaining an awareness of what was happening around him. He considered his 'confused feelings' only to realize that there was very little confused about them. He knew _exactly_ how he felt towards Mel. Her illness had forced him to accept what he had been denying to himself almost since the beginning. He loved her. How could he not?

He snapped out of his meditation, shaking his head. Of course he loved her, it went without saying. It was exactly as he had told Jess when Mel had been in the hospital: it was impossible to know her and _not_ love her. The knowledge, his acceptance of it, were not as frightening as he would have thought. In fact, it was uplifting, almost a relief. He ignored the urge to join Mel after all, content in the knowledge that she would invite him to join her, and _mean_ it, when she was ready. And when she had accepted him, he would give himself over to her gratefully.

Smiling faintly at the thought, he rose and returned to the war-room. He had a lot of work to catch up on, after all. An email from Nestov suggested that he might know where to find Caedra and Vaedra, a pair of Orsusian assassins. That was good news as the sisters were quite a dangerous pair. 

As he followed up that lead, he kept close tabs on Mel's life-force, smiling when he saw that her sleep was not only restful but actually, for the first time in ages, pleasant. 

"Sweet dreams, Mel," he murmured faintly, his smile growing as he allowed himself the possibility that her dreams might actually be of him. "Sweet dreams." 

**The End**

  



End file.
